a poem to sate the touch-deprived (ode to physical love)
the privilege of touchinganother person’s bodyconnecting skinto skin thisis the gift of aphroditesubtletya grace in touchingfingertip to palmhead to necklips to hand this poetry of silencebridge between solitudeand something bettermingling oftwo bodiesthreerush straight to molecularselflike kicking underwaterpower of motiontouch skin smooth assilk touching my fingertips toyours andsliding my hand intothe slots they make epiphany kick water overover again people were made forhand-holding (i think)soft curve of heelstretch of fingertipsquared offsettle snugly insimplespaceswarmth insidethe room betweenpalms growing